


Crumbling Murals

by mosaicofdreamsanddragons



Series: Missing Moments In-Between [2]
Category: LEGO Monkie Kid
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Takes place in episode 8 and sets up episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosaicofdreamsanddragons/pseuds/mosaicofdreamsanddragons
Summary: Monkey king grooms MK's hair to calm the kid down after loosing the key and ends up calming himself down too.
Relationships: Monkey King | Sun Wukong & MK | Qi Xiaotian (LEGO Monkie Kid)
Series: Missing Moments In-Between [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967488
Comments: 19
Kudos: 137





	Crumbling Murals

**Author's Note:**

> Since Sun Wukong is Monkey king's name and this is from his perspective he's called that throughout this fic. MK still calls him by Monkey King (as I watched the dub in the dub that's what MK calls him).

Sun Wukong, the Monkey king, watched the Kid go about his day in his bird form and waited for the kid to notice him. It was a game by now and one Wukong was getting tired of winning. Seriously, the Kid knew what he looked like when he transformed and he knew that Wukong would come over to spy on him. So why could he never spot him?

 _Note to self, incorporate observation into the next lesson._ He mused. _Should help with training for focus._  


The Kid’s little friend, the Feisty One, came out. He could make out that they were headed somewhere, because of something to do with a mayor, but needed to be quite because…Oh there goes the Kid’s Boss. Something about making up for slacking off yesterday. _Hmmm, that might have been my fault. Should I interfear? Nahhhh._ The yelling had drawn the attention of the Kid’s other friend, the One-Who-Leaves-Treats-Out-For-Birds, who was now trying to mediate between them. _I bet he’ll bring out the tea._ As if on cue, One With Treats produced a teapot seemingly out of nowhere. _Called it._ Wukong chuckled to himself as the Kid’s Boss’ cup got casually stolen by the fifth member of the band, the Fanboy. Who, instead of helping, contented himself with sipping the tea next to the Feisty One who was taking pictures of the whole ordeal.

_A Pig screamed insults at him from across the campground. He screamed back. He could swear he heard the horse let out a whinny which sounded suspiciously like a dragons’ laugh. He glared at it. A River Demon offered him some tea in a valiant attempt to stop the fighting. He ignored it only for his cup to get swiped by Monk too tired from his latest kidnapping to care anymore._

He blinked suddenly back in the present. Without looking back at the scene below him he took off. He’d bother the kid about training tomorrow. 

_He laughs around a campfire with a Pig, a River Demon, a Horse, and a Monk._

_“Have some tea,” says the River Demon hands full of teapot and cups that hadn’t been there a second before._

_“I’m not really thirsty,” he says._

_“It’ll do you some good,” said the River Demon and pushes the tea cup closer. The water in the reflection catches the eye and he can just briefly make out…_

_He shoves the tea away. “I’m fine really,” he says._

_“Oh please,” says the Pig with a snort. “You’re not fooling anybody.” But before any offense could be taken to the statement the Pig produced a peach and tossed it at him._

_“What’s this for,” he says in shock as he inspected the white and pink fruit. For once he could make out no obvious punchline._

_“You seem a like you need it,” says the Pig. “Gone and gotten sick on us. We can all tell you know, even the Horse noticed.”_

_The Horse whinnied in affirmation and nuzzled the top of his hair. The touch filled him with a sudden ache for more._

_He shook himself as if it could dislodge him from the sensations growing inside him. “I’m fine,” he said putting on a smile and twitching his tail for emphasis. “I don’t get sick. I’m immortal, remember?”_

_The Pig, the River Demon, and the Horse all shared glances but said nothing. Instead it was the Monk, putting down his tea cup that he hadn’t had before, who responded. “We know,” he said and as he turned to meet his eyes, the Monk’s face was that of the mural, cracking with age._

_Unable to stare at the pale copy of the living breathing person he’d known he dropped his eyes down to the tea and saw the truth in the reflection. There was no one else by the campfire. He was alone._

_Had been for a long time._

He didn’t awake screaming from the nightmare. The cold ache that filled him wasn’t really something that warranted a scream. Instead it sapped his energy, but it was fine.

He was used to it. 

The next day he deliberately waited for the Kid inside his house. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to pass the mural. No, he just wanted to get some more sleep. That was all.

The Kid found him easy enough but something seemed off. There was less enthusiasm at the prospect of sparring and his eyes were troubled like something was weighing on his mind. And it made him sloppy. The third time he crashed into the ground when he could easily have landed, Wukong decided this couldn’t go on any longer. He called off the match with a wave of his hand.

“Okay, Kid,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

The Kid looked up at him, dirt sticking out of his hair. He took a deep breath and then started to talk, or rather he started to poor words out of his mouth at such a speed that if Wukong had been anyone other than himself he doubted they could have been able to follow. “The mayor, well we thought he was the mayor but now we aren’t so sure, gave me this key that opens any locks…”

“Sounds like a good thing,” Wukong sat the Kid down in front of him and began to groom his hair. The Kid squirmed a bit but Wukong barely noticed. Most children were squrimish while being groomed, and it didn’t strike him as odd that a human child would be too.

“…and it was a good thing at first but then Red Son showed up and he stole it…”

“Mmhmm,” said Wukong pulling out dirt particles from the oddly silky fur.

“…and that was fine, we can beat him no problem, but then his mom showed up and they got away with the key. But I just can’t figure out why! They already saved the DBK what more do they want to free? Are they after a person, are they after a powerful artifact? I mean they’ve gone after them before…”

Wukong poked him in the back of the head. “Kid, breath.”

The Kid took a deep breath and Wukong continued. “There’s no point worrying about what could happen, focus on the present instead.”

“I’m trying,” said the Kid fidgeting so much Wukong lost another dirt clod back into the Kid’s hair. “But I can’t stop thinking about it! What if…”

Wukong sighed and spun the Kid around to face him. Meeting his eyes he said, “Those worries don’t matter. Do you know why?”

The Kid tilted his head up so he could meet Wukong’s eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to be ready for whatever comes. Just believe in yourself Kid. You’ve got this.”

The Kid’s eyes shine and Wukong feels something fill up inside him flooding out all the old aches that had flared up the night before. He quickly turns the boy back around and starts grooming his hair again.

“Umm, Monkey King?” the Kid began tentatively. Wukong cocked his head at the words but most of his focus was on trying to find any bugs in the strangely silken hair.

“Yes?” he said probably more snappishly then he meant it.

“Why are you… umm… picking at my hair? Is it like a training thing?” Wukong froze. His tail twitched.

“I am grooming you,” he began slowly, “because your hair is dirty and you probably need it. Also because I’m your teacher and in absence of whoever usually grooms you…”

“No one grooms me,” began the Kid. “I’m not sure humans get groomed, we have like shampoo or something. B-but it’s fine! I don’t mind!”

 _Kids these days! Don’t know anything about proper care! I am going to have to do this more often. Maybe after training sessions._ At the expectation of future grooming sessions, warmth fills him again. That more than anything else makes him mentally add it to his plans for the next training session.

The Kid settled into the grooming and Wukong took the time to direct the conversation to safer things: how his little friends were, the game he was currently obsessed with, and grilling Wukong for details on some old adventure he’d long forgotten.

The Kid leaves with debris free hair and a bounce in his step. He stops as he’s walking off and turns back calling, “Thank you Monkey King! I’ll remember to live in the present!”

Wukong waves goodbye and as he turns back to head to his house his eyes fall on the mural. “Live for the present, ehhy?” he says to himself gazing up at the time worn faces. He reached out to touch the mural, gazing up at the frozen memories. The Pig who he’d clashed with so many times but had always had his back, the River Demon always ready with a listening ear, the horse trudging forward no matter the odds, and the Monk…who had taught him how to care for others beside himself. Without whom he could never have been a teacher himself.

There used to be such warmth when he thought of them. Where did that all go?

He closed his eyes and tried to remember the Kid smiling with his friends, his enthusiasm, and the way his smile drove away all the cold that had settled in him long ago.

His hand dropped from the mural.

“Live for the present,” he echoed.

The Kid needed to work on building his core strength. A little demolition would do him some good.


End file.
